Surprises
by grandHyperbole
Summary: Nothing should surprise any of them anymore, but somehow they're always caught by something unexpected. And really, where the God of Mischief and Tony Stark are concerned, they really shouldn't be so easy to get the jump on, especially by each other. Whether it's harmless or potentially humiliating, they really should have learned the first time.
1. Mambo

**A/N:** Hm, you people probably weren't expecting anything from me to pop up again, were you? Well, I live to defy expectations, so here. Have some Avengers fanfiction that I wrote while I was on a caffeine high to end all caffeine highs. And also 3am.

This is cross posted on AO3, and is finished, but my attention span and interest will dictate whether I bother to upload the entire thing.

So, since I can't really say everything in the summary due to the character limit, I'll say it here:  
This is going to allude to a number of different pairings, but the main focus will be on Frostiron, or Tony/Loki. That being said, yes, this is a slash fiction, as the character tags should imply, but it will also have mentions of "fem!slash," because I don't discriminate. I ship just about everything where Avengers is concerned, I kid you not.

Rated as such because of reasons.  
Beta'd by RahkshiSister.  
I own nothing.

And finally: Mambo No5 is one of Tony Stark's theme songs, and nothing will ever change my mind.

* * *

There weren't a whole lot of things that could phase him after falling through a black hole, but this mortal was quickly proving to be one of them. Appearing in the work shop was often amusing, as well as occasionally a hazard to his health, though rarely was it both. Standing within the blind spot of the cameras, he could feel his eyebrows attempting to merge with his hairline.

_"…A little bit of Mary all night long~  
__A little bit of Jessica here I am~  
__A little bit of you makes me your man~!"_

Right on cue, Stark spun around, still singing and dancing to the music playing at its usual high volume. He choked and almost fell over as he caught sight of the god, though, while Loki smirked in response and began moving towards him, picking up where Stark left off.

_"I do all to fall in love with a girl like you.  
__Cause you can't run and you can't hide,  
__You and me gonna touch the sky~"_

He didn't think he'd ever seen the mortal so shocked, but it was a good look on him. It also kept him from trying to escape as Loki trapped him against the work bench, an arm on either side of him as he leered down at the other man. The song ended, the next one starting almost instantly.

The first lines of "Bad Romance" started playing and Loki went from about to ravish the engineer to pressing his face to Stark's shoulder to muffle his startled laughter. He was never going to be able to take the man seriously again, not after this strange playlist had come to light. Though he didn't doubt the mortal's own thoughts on his seriousness, he'd just relieve him of any notions of not taking the God of Mischief seriously the next time they met in battle.

"Fucking- J.A.R.V.I.S., shut that off!" He sounded more flustered than the god had ever heard him, and he took the shove at his shoulders good-naturedly, falling into one of Stark's chairs as he grinned.

"Of course, sir." The accented, disembodied voice had ceased causing Loki to jump, though the snarkiness of the comment made him snicker again. He'd actually become rather attached to the A.I., though he still didn't fully understand the concept of "artificial" intelligence. He was working on it, but it would seem that Stark was the only one who had managed to create such a self-sustaining system, and he was rather tight lipped on the subject. Not to mention that anything he read on the subject usually led back to said man, which made him think of all the things he'd rather be doing.

Progress had, understandably, been very slow.

Stark had gone off on some interrogation as to why he insisted on popping up behind him and scaring him out of his mind -or, alternatively, catching him doing something embarrassing- while he was thinking. Not wanting to have to pretend he'd been paying any amount of attention, he interrupted his rant by dragging him down into his lap, one arm locked around his waist with his hand on the other's hip, the other resting on his thigh.

He gave the man's neck a sharp-toothed nip to keep him from protesting, squeezing his thigh slightly when he hissed at the unexpected pain.

"Simple boredom, Anthony, I assure you." He continued nipping up the column of the mortal's throat, smirking at the slightly hitched breathing he was rewarded with, "And you, my dear, are never boring."

The breathless chuckle his comment earned was cut off as he pressed his mouth to the other's.


	2. Show

**A/N:** I'm just warning you now, this is going to be updated whenever I feel like mustering up the effort needed to upload these.

In other news: Holy _fuck_, you guys. 180 hits in less than a DAY? Dear god. Feelin' pretty overwhelmed over here. Thank you to those who reviewed/subscribed/fav'd, all that good stuff. It was more than a little exciting to see people actually like this garbage.

* * *

He found it amusing how some humans were so okay with wearing such little clothing in front of thousands of people. Showing so much skin in Asgard was reserved for one's home, while layers of armor were worn at all other times due to the frequency with which fights broke out. These humans were either very brave or very stupid to leave themselves so unprotected among so many others. Especially at a high-profile event such as this.

Or they were as he was, and of Jotun decent. The Frost Giants were rather infamous for their supreme lack of clothing and shame.

He wondered briefly how Stark would react, or even if he'd notice. The man had proven himself horrendously unobservant every time he actually wanted to be noticed. Regardless, he should resemble his normal form enough for the mortal to put two and two together.

Moving to stand where everyone involved in the spectacle was being directed, the God couldn't help but to smirk at the jealous glances he was getting. It just proved that no one else would make the connection between the shape-shifting God of Mischief and one more attractive woman in the Stark Expo opening show. A moment's thought was spared for concern over Thor seeing this and recognizing his favored female form before it was dismissed. Thor probably couldn't even work a television, and there was no way Loki would have missed his voice amongst the cheering crowd. The Thunder God's voice was hard to miss, especially when he was encouraged to yell like a fool.

The few women she'd associated with during the choreography and practicing of this "show" babbled nervously at her, alternating between excited and scared witless. She offered reassuring smiles and words of comfort, finding these few mortals quite bearable compared to the rest of the "cast," many of the other women reminding her far too much of the "nobility" of the Æsir court.

A moment's contemplation about her growing attachment to some Midgardians was interrupted by the show beginning and the return of her anticipation of Stark's reaction.

The wide-eyed stare she got when Stark caught sight of her was just as amusing as she thought it would be, and if she happened to exit Stark's dressing room an hour after the show, her hair in slight disarray and missing one of her gloves… Well, all her little circle did was giggle knowingly.

Surprising Stark was quickly becoming one of her favorite pastimes.


	3. Godly Intervention

**A/N:** You people are fucking crazy. Legitimately crazy. Why on earth have almost 300 of you read this already? It's been up for two days! Lunatics, all of you.

And for those who are curious, my AO3 handle is grandHyperbole, and my Tumblr url is allegoricallies. My AO3 doesn't have much on it, just this and one Homestuck thing, and my Tumblr is full of Hiddles/Loki/Avengers and random stuff that I feel the need to reblog.

* * *

He supposed it said something for his sense of self-preservation that he didn't think before he spoke around his fellow Avengers. He'd pissed off Steve more times than he felt the need to count, Clint didn't even hesitate to give as good as he got, Natasha had become more or less immune to his comments -and when he did say something that really pissed her off, he'd find little clues to the pains he would suffer if he said it again-, and Bruce was his "bestie" and had always been immune to The Stark Snark.

As for Thor… well, normally shit either went over the Asgardian's thick blond head, or he laughed it off without a care in the worlds.

This time, he'd apparently said the wrong thing when they were bickering about Tony's commentary on some TV show.

"Really, Son of Howard, can you get through nothing without vulgar comment?"

His mouth didn't consult his brain before it opened and words were expelled, far too uncensored for his conversation partner.

"Yeah, well, your brother wasn't complain' last night. He seemed to enjoy it, actually."

Open mouth, insert foot, then stab self in the face with the butter knife he'd been using to make a sandwich. Apparently his self-destructive tendencies were stronger than ever.

"**WHAT?**"

His butter knife wasn't going to defend him against Mjölnir, and he didn't think he'd be able to dodge around the mountain of muscle that was Thor. Quickly throwing his hands up, he put on his most charming grin while his "co-worker" stalked toward him from the living room where he'd leapt off the couch at his comment.

"Hey now, big guy. It was just a joke, no need to get violent." If he could just get out from behind the counter, he might have a chance to run. Thor couldn't bank for shit when he was running, so his chances at making it to his lab or behind Bruce would increase.

"Jest or not, no one speaks of my brother so obscenely!" It was when Thor _growled_ like that, still breaking conduct for anything considered an "Indoor Voice," that Tony hated his tendency to run at the mouth more than anything.

Note to self: _"Invent and install a "brain-to-mouth" filter."_

He quickly calculated his odds of success, decided the 27% chance was worth it, and threw himself around the kitchen bar and made a break for it down the hallway. The roar his actions got from the God of Thunder was reminiscent of the Hulk, so he picked up the pace from "Running for my life" to "GOTTA GO FAST!" Clint and Natasha were blocking the hall to the labs -and didn't even twitch out of the way when they saw him running by, the bastards-, so his plans changed from hiding behind Bruce to hiding on his floor. There was no way the elevator would be fast enough in any number of ways, so he'd have to hope his lungs survived the climb up six flights of stairs going as fast as he could.

He'd never sprinted so fast in his life, and it showed in the fact that he was wheezing by the time he'd gotten up the stairs between the various floors and made it to his penthouse, but he kept going. J.A.R.V.I.S. didn't hesitate to let him in, but Thor was going full tilt and the A.I. didn't have time to seal the doors.

Fortunately, _his_ God was waiting in his living room, arms crossed over his fully armored chest and a truly thunderous expression on his face -no pun intended. He paid Tony only a brief look of concern as the billionaire collapsed on the ground behind him, gasping for air and feeling the world spin as his vision tunneled. He focused that narrowed sight so Loki's profile was at the end, even as his ears rang so much he missed the chewing out the God of Mischief delivered unto his brother. (In watching the video feed later, he decided it was best he hadn't heard and that Thor wasn't around when he laughed so hard he cried at Loki's hissed comments about how Thor's "_flowing_ locks were the ones that resembled a blushing maiden's" and mentions of an event where Thor cross-dressed. He'd have to get that story from Loki later.)

Blinking away his disorientation, he managed a delirious grin as he rasped out a breathless, "Thank you, God."

Loki's pause to throw him an amused, affectionate half-smile was gratifying. His teasing "No one ever said I wasn't benevolent." made him grin even more ridiculously as the man went back to scolding the other Asgardian like a particularly bad puppy.

He knew just how "benevolent" Loki could be, and it no longer surprised him.


	4. TFTA

__**A/N:** First, I hate this stupid document editing thing, because it is a massive bastard and sucks. Second, I have totally stolen inspiration for this one from Bartonesque on Tumblr, who is the master of Texts From Last Night with the Avengers. You guys should check 'em out, they're brilliant, and her blog is covered in Clint Barton. ((Mmm, Hawkeye~.))

And... I guess that's really all I have to say this time. Whoo.

* * *

_Shoot to kill, play to thrill, Too many women with too many pills, Shoot-_

"Stark, I'm going to break your phone." It didn't matter that his voice was muffled by two pillows and the man in question's arm, it was still a warning.

_Yeah, I'm like evil, I get under your skin, Just like a bomb that's ready to bl-_

"_Stark_. Your _phone_. I will _destroy it_." He was rapidly losing his patience, still asleep enough that he could get back to dreamland if he was quick about it, but rapidly losing ground.

_So don't you fool around, Shoot to kill, play to thrill, I got my gun at th-_

"_STARK._" This time he punctuated his warning with a sharp elbow to the man's sternum, effectively waking the man with a shout of pain that was muffled by the mess that had become his hair in the night.

"Ugh, fuck, what the- Fugin', wha' t'm s'it?" He didn't think Stark was speaking English, but that was fine, because the man had reached over and silenced the infernal electronic, leaving Loki to bury his head between the pillows, no fucks given to what time it was because, no matter what part of the day it was at that point, it was too early.

Just as he was drifting off again, he got a sharp nudge in the hip by a calloused hand. The growl Stark was rewarded with did nothing to deter the man, too busy laughing as he poked at him. "'s a text from Bruce. He wants to know if we know where he is."

While normally he wouldn't care about Tony's interactions with his fellow superheroes, that gave him pause. He peaked out from under the safety of the feather pillow he was attempting to use to smother himself, blurrily staring up at his lover. "…what?"

The man was grinning like a fool, looking through his texts from the night before and the last few hours while they'd been too deeply asleep to care about the ringing of his phone. "Oh man, what the fuck did we do last night? I've got texts from Bruce saying he woke up on a train, Steve telling me I'm an asshole and asking where I got some costume from, Clint saying someone broke four of his ribs during sex last night, and Fury saying he joined a fuckin' boy band! And Natasha saying Thor is a storm of perfect hair and bad judgment."

Loki was not awake enough for Stark to be rambling at him, though it was quickly getting to that point, and by the time everything registered he was wide awake. "_Nick Fury_ joined a… "boy band"?" He wasn't entirely sure what that meant, but either way, he couldn't believe the man had joined anything that wasn't a Superhero Babysitter's Club.

"It's a group of really flamboyant guys that sing and shit. Y'know, like… Backstreet Boys and all that garbage." No, he didn't know what these "Backstreet Boys" were, but trying to connect "flamboyant" and "Nick Fury" in his heavily hungover mind just was not happening.

"…well, if nothing else, I do agree with Widow's assessment of Thor." He extricated himself from his cocoon of blankets and what appeared to be women's lingerie, which he really didn't want to know the origins of, given that he knew Tony hadn't had any women in his bed for a few months -having spent that time in the man's bed himself. "What is this about Banner on a train and not knowing where he is?"

"Just a sec." He shifted over until he was leaning against the billionaire, peaking over his shoulder at the screen of his phone. "Oops, looks like I _was_ involved in that somehow. Told Coulson we lost Banner at around 3:30."

Plucking the device from Tony's hand, he scrolled through the messages, pausing to squint at one in particular. "…did you really tell Thor to lick Captain Roger's stomach if he "hooked up" with him last night?" He wasn't sure how he felt about that mental image, besides horribly nauseas, but that could be attributed to the hangover. "I suppose they'd be… good for each other…?"

Tony was laughing at him, but he was too busy scrolling through the phone's inbox to care. So far, it seemed that there were a few clues as to what they'd done the night before cataloged in the memory of the small device. Coming to one from around 2am, he scowled at it with an offended huff.

"Mr. Barton seems to think that I'm '40% pretty hair and 60% daddy issues.'" A small nudge with his finger brought him further down, bringing a small smirk to his face as he read it. "But Ms. Romanov reports that they found him in the shower with some brand of alcohol or another telling everyone that it's Mexico's fault, so I suppose I'll let the comment slide."

"Wait, lemme see that." He allowed the smaller man to take the phone back, deciding that it wasn't helping his headache to read the small print and that wrapping himself around his bedmate like some manner of Midgardian primate was a much better plan. Hiding his face against the back of the man's neck actually did a lot to block out the sun, though it also brought to his attention that they both smelled _horrendous_, some mixture of alcohol and particularly cheap fast food. "Were we drunk in a mansion last night? I told Steve we were, but I can't remember anything about mansions."

"I do recall a lot of stairs and offended people in dinner clothing, but I don't know that we were necessarily in a _mansion_." Forcing himself from the warmth of his lover, he straightened up and took the phone from him, checking quickly to see if Banner had found his way to civilization, typing up a quick response of going to fetch him later when he saw he hadn't, and tossing the device into the blankets before moving to drag Tony out of bed. "Now, before we attempt to solve the mystery of our activities last night, I need a shower, coffee, and Advil. Come along, Anthony."

Stark gave only an obligatory whine before allowing himself to be dragged into a fully upright position and across the room to the bathroom, being suspiciously silent as Loki dragged him along. It wasn't until they were in the bathroom that Loki turned to question what had Tony so quiet, catching his reflection in the mirror just as the man finally found his voice to comment, strangely strangled as he covered his mouth with his hands while Loki puffed up like an offended cat.

"_Is that a cutie mark…?"_


	5. Frostiron

**A/N:** Have you all sufficiently calmed down? Can I upload without a billion of you suddenly showing up? _Is it safe_?

I'll take your lack of ability to answer as a yes.

I've noticed that you guys only really go nuts when I update this at ridiculous hours of the morning. Are all my readers on the West Coast or something? It's the only explanation I can figure out for why so many of you jump on board when I post a new chapter at like, 3am, but no one seems to read during normal hours of the day. (Unless you're all similarly nocturnal, like myself.)

Anyway, have a thing.

* * *

It was a bit shocking to go from lavishing his lover's pale back with light touches and a trail of barely-there kisses to wake him up, to finding himself flipped on his back with 170lbs of pale blue, frostbite inducing muscle and glowing red eyes looming over him. Staring up at Loki in surprise, he watched as those same red eyes went from narrowed in still-sleepy threat to aware, awake, and horrified. The God scrambled away from him so quickly, Tony missed the transition from blue to the usual pale complexion that he was used to. The man had his back to him, his hands covering his face as he curled in on himself at the edge of the bed.

Rolling over slowly, he sat up and moved over to sit with his side pressed to Loki's back. His first impulse was to hug him, but given the way he'd woken up, he didn't want to make his lover feel trapped. All the God did was squirm a bit at having Tony invade his space, otherwise not responding and leaving them to sit in silence for a few, drawn-out minutes.

Eventually, the ex-villain broke the silence, his voice muffled by his hands and more exhausted than Tony had heard it in a while.

"You're not going to ask, or kick me out for almost killing you?" Sometimes he forgot just how old Loki actually was, but then he'd do or say something _like that_, his tone making it seem like he was fully expecting that response -and had experienced such before.

Humming low in his throat, he nudged Loki gently with his elbow as he answered flippantly. "The only reason I would kick you out of bed would be to fuck you on the floor."

The strangled, startled laugh he got in response made Loki's entire body jolt with the force of it, but it was better than having him being unnaturally still. He twisted to press his forehead to the spot between Loki's shoulder blades, closing his eyes and just resting there, feeling the tension slowly leave the lean frame of the God as he wrapped one arm around his waist loosely to rest his hand on his thigh.

"I already knew, y'know." He kept his voice quiet, not wanting to give Loki any reason to freeze up again, literally or figuratively, "The stories might not _all_ be true, but I figured at least _some_ weren't complete bullshit." He paused, thinking over the stories of Loki's origins for a second before continuing.

"Still confused by how a half-naked, fifteen foot tall blue guy was mistaken for a woman, though. Have you _read_ those ones? They apparently thought "she" was slender and weak! Now, I don't know how the Norse did or defined things, but I'm not sure fifteen feet tall and, y'know, a _giant_ fits the definitions of slender and weak. Or how anyone could mistake a guy in a loincloth for a woman, but-." His rambling attempts to distract his lover were cut off when he noticed Loki was shaking. For a second he was afraid he'd upset the other man by reminding him further of his heritage, but only until Loki gasped for air and descended into another bought of almost silent, hysterical laughter.

In the next second, he found himself pinned under the God again, except this time the Æsir and part-time Frost Giant was grinning like a fool and flushed rather attractively from his fit of laughter. He found himself staring again, even as his own mouth twisted into an answering smile.

Loki rarely opened up to him like this, refusing to let his guard drop or his control of his emotions slip, so staring into his eyes now was accompanied by a sudden understanding of what people meant when they said that "the eyes are the window to the soul." It could have been the sorcerer's magic or just his emotions, but either way, Tony was suddenly struck with the thought that looking into Loki's eyes must be what looking at the view of the Nine Realms from the Bifrost was like.

"Wow…" his voice was breathless as he reached up to cup the God's cheek in his palm. He expected Loki to pull away, since he disliked such sentimental attentions most times, but for once the other man simply lent into the touch as his grin softened.

"You are the most surprising being I have ever met, Tony Stark." He shivered at the sheer force of the emotions in the soft voice, brushing his thumb under Loki's eye to distract himself.

He did his best to shrug nonchalantly while laying on his back under a "higher power." "Yeah, well, it's on the warning label, so ya can't say you weren't warned and sue."

The laugh he got was like what he imagined snow sounded like when it hit ice. Not cold, but soft and pure and holy _fuck_, he was getting all soft and _mushy_ in his old age.

The light pressure of Loki's forehead against his, the hand that took his and laced their fingers together beside his head, and the soft smile said what he didn't think either of them, with all their scars and splinters and cracks, would ever be able to voice.

The hand that came up to thread through black hair and rest possessively on the back of a pale neck, the gentle return squeeze of the trapped hand, and the light brush of lips to that soft smile said all he needed to in response.

"_I love you, too."_

* * *

**A/N: **No one will ever change my mind that Jotun Loki is one of the hottest fucking plot devices _ever_.


	6. Culinary Skills

**A/N:** Wow, suddenly nothing? Better upload a new chapter.

Suddenly, FEELINGS! And DEPTH! My writing is so consistent, I am quality. :B

**Disclaimer:** I am quality, but I still own nothing. Just thought I'd give you an update on my not owning anything.

* * *

This seemed to be a reoccurring phenomenon, walking in on Tony Stark doing ridiculous things. This time he was talking to J.A.R.V.I.S. while attempting, and failing, to cook… something. He honestly couldn't tell, given that it was a charred mess and the man was scowling down at it like _it _had done _him_ some horrible offense. Looking around the mess that the man had made of the mansion's kitchen gave a few hints, and the can of pizza sauce on the opposite counter, by the stove Stark was standing at, gave him the last indication.

"I wasn't aware pizza was supposed to look like a puddle of tar." Stepping up beside the genius, he wrinkled his nose at the smell of burnt everything. "It would seem the great Tony Stark has met his match."

The man in question was glaring up at him, though it was ruined by the smudge of sauce across his right cheek. Raising his eyebrow in amusement, he leant down and licked it off, turning and waving a hand lazily sent the ruined "food" to the trash and cleaned the explosion of flour off the counter. He looked over the recipe Stark had pulled up on a tablet, thankfully out of the way of the war zone. It was hardly a difficult thing, but Stark was a strange one in that he could make the simplest things into a huge production. He shed his over coat and outer tunic, tossing them over a barstool before pulling the various ingredients toward him.

He was surprised it took so long for Stark to "reboot," but eventually he stepped around the counter into Loki's peripheral vision. "I take it you're some grand, master chef off in the land of shouting and poor judgment, then?"

He couldn't help but grin at the man's flippant opinion of Asgard, having based his decision off of Thor and the Warrior's Three the few times he'd met them. Sif seemed to be the only one Stark was at all impressed with, but he was also fairly certain the woman scared him. Given the instant camaraderie between the Æsir and Natasha Romanov, he wasn't at all surprised.

"Actually, yes. Though it was more out of necessity than any real desire to master the art." Really, he wasn't sure how Stark had failed to make such a simple thing as pizza. A quick inquiry to J.A.R.V.I.S. had the oven set to the proper temperature, and he was fairly certain the billionaire wasn't so inattentive to not have done that him himself, so that wasn't it. "With the way Thor and Odin ate, and with Volstagg and the rest at the palace so often, I frequently had to sneak down to the kitchens after the meal was finished to get enough food for myself. Mother taught me, actually, since she had to do the same quite a few times."

If his explanation shocked the mortal, he didn't see it, too busy kneading the dough to pay attention. He'd never made the Midgardian food before, though, so he doubted his ability to spin it as the recipe wished on the first try. Eying the dough thoughtfully, he hummed softly and used a bit of magic to get the desired effect. He'd learn to do it properly at a later time, when he didn't have an audience.

"That is so cheating, I call shenanigans! You can't use magic to cook if you're gonna show me up!" The mortal had him snorting softly in amusement despite himself, shooting him a brief look before turning to grab the can of sauce off the counter.

"Yes well, _you _failed to make this with pre-prepared ingredients, so I'm going to call that cheating and say all's fair in cooking and war." He kept his amusement out of his voice as best he could, focusing on evenly spreading the toppings over the pizza. He wondered, briefly, if Stark intended to eat the entire thing himself, but chose not to ask. For all he knew, the man was going to be dining with Potts, something he wanted no knowledge of and no part in, any farther than making the food and playing ignorant.

Better for his remaining sanity and all that, he figured.

A quick flick of his hand and a murmured incantation had the pizza on the magically cleaned pan, keeping the risk of misshaping it to a minimum as he slid it into the oven and had the A.I. set a timer with instructions to pester Stark until the man removed it once it was ready. Finally turning to look at the man properly, he gave him the most expectant look he could muster with his hands covered in flour and a bit of sauce. The so-called genius stared at him blankly for a moment, not seeming to know what Loki was waiting on before he finally startled and straightened up a bit, resting one hand over his arc reactor and holding the other out to Loki slightly where his elbow rested on the counter.

"Thank you, God, for the bountiful feast. I don't know how I would ever get by without such an amazing wife." The mortal continued to prove himself an addict to all things overdramatic, though it didn't fail to amuse him either. Shaking his head at the man's antics, he turned to the sink to wash his hands of the mess, leaving the rest for Stark to deal with, since he'd started the whole fiasco. He was slightly surprised to hear the man _actually _cleaning up behind him, but kept his comments to himself, lest the immature mortal decide to dump flour on him or something.

It wasn't until he'd reached for his tunic and coat that Stark spoke again, turning to him with his eyebrow raised and his lower lip jutted out in the most ridiculous pout Loki had ever seen. "What, you're not staying to eat your masterpiece? And here I thought you were starved from too much time with Thor."

He stared at the other for a moment, trying to discern his motive before slowly setting the clothes back down. "I was under the impression you'd be having company, given you were making such a large amount of food."

He shouldn't have felt his chest constrict a little at the brief look of loneliness on Stark's face as he stared down at where he was cleaning up a spatter trail of pizza sauce and cheese on the top of the oven -he decided not to question that one- from his earlier attempt. "Nope, everyone's off doing their own thing tonight. Even Bruce! Between the two of us, I think the guy might've finally gotten a girlfriend."

Though his tone was light and partially conspiring, it was obvious the man was feeling a little betrayed that everyone -even _Rogers_- was off doing something. He wasn't sure why Stark himself wasn't out at some gala or party or something, but kept his comments to himself. Watching his sometimes-lover for a moment longer, he pulled one of the stools out to sit at the counter.

"Well then, I suppose I can spare some time for your mortal whims tonight."

The ridiculous, toothy grin the man directed at him did nothing to distract him from the small spark of gratitude in the other's eyes. He wasn't sure what had brought on this strange need for company from a man who was normally more of an introvert than himself, but he wouldn't question it.

Sometimes, having company wasn't so bad. Especially when it was surprisingly understanding.


	7. Knife

**A/N:** Okay, so this one is based loosely on one of the TFLN, but not on a TFTA. I've only got one more "chapter" of this set written up after this one, but I may continue it if I ever get super bored. For now, though, I'm working on an Avengers/Silent Hill crossover, and have already managed to get 4 1/2 chapters of it written up, so that'll probably be my main priority.

Anyway, here ya go.

* * *

"Hey, Nat. Is this about that dumb comment I made the other day? Cause if it is, I got it, you don't need to threaten to kill me in my sleep anymore, I won't say it again." The plea was just this side of panicked, but he couldn't calm himself down after having a knife almost stab him in the face when it fell out of his ceiling. Rare were the times when Tony Stark didn't feel safe in his own bed.

The redhead looked up at him from where she was reading some report or something at the kitchen bar, her eyebrow raised as she stared at him. "While that's good to hear, Stark, I'm afraid I honestly have no idea what you're talking about."

Well that was a little scary, but he held up the knife as evidence of what he meant. "This? It was _apparently_ stabbed in my ceiling and almost killed me a minute ago when it fell."

He was really hoping for recollection to hit her, but all the assassin did was shake her head in denial. "That's not mine. Though it's a nice knife, that's for throwing, and I don't invest in nice things that have the potential to be lost in a target." Suddenly he was rather glad it wasn't hers, because that would mean she'd have been able to kill him from a distance.

"I… well thanks, I guess. It's good to know you won't slit my throat from across the room if I piss you off. Up front about things, way more personal. Got it." His tendency to babble was showing, but he quickly cut off the stream of word vomit and turned to head down to the lab, pulling out his phone while being careful not to cut himself with the knife.

**To: Rock of Ages**

**Text: I found your knife. It was stuck in my bedroom ceiling.**

He didn't want to know WHY it was there, but he was going to assume it was one of those things he couldn't remember from the other night when they all got plastered and lost Banner. Fury was still angry at him, though it really wasn't his fault the guy decided he wanted to join some Boy Band for middle-aged directors of secret government organizations. Apparently he and Coulson's dad had hit it off or something, he didn't know the whole story, but supposedly aliens and idiot newbie agents were something to bond over.

He answered his phone before it could get passed "Shoot to" and was only mildly relieved to see it was from Loki.

**From: Rock of Ages**

**Which one?**

That wasn't as reassuring as he'd hoped. A quick turn on his heel and he changed route from going to the lab to returning to his bedroom. Time to make sure there weren't more knives waiting to attempt assassinating him while he was jerking off.


	8. What Even is this That I am Writing?

**A/N:** I can explain! I was on a caffeine high, there were only a few hours of sleep involved, I'd had a lot of sugar in the last 20 minutes, and the drunken shenanigans of the human population greatly amuse me.

I... still have no idea where this even came from, though. orz

**Also!:** Just out of curiosity, does anyone want more explanation behind all the events that occurred in chapter Four? What I mean is, do you want to actually see how their night went that led to all the shenanigans mentioned there? Lemme know if you're interested in me writing those up.

* * *

"Pepper, I just don't understand what you're trying to tell me here. Did you or did you not sleep with this guy? I can't help you or beat this guy to a pulp if ya don't give me a straight answer."

"Honestly, Tony, I don't know why you think I need your help. I'm not some damsel in distress waiting for my knight in gaudy armor to save me."

"I'm well aware, dear, but as your friend _and_ your boss, I feel obligated to threaten your boyfriends to make sure they get you back before curfew and ensure your happiness. You should be used to this by now. And the suit is _not_ gaudy."

"While that's very sweet, you don't have to get your bat. Pretty sure I scared him off for good." He twisted on the couch to get a look at his PA where she was making a cup of coffee, momentarily ignoring Darcy as she shouted at the living room TV, gun fire and whoops over the comm in his ear also going unattended as she covered them. Pepper was blushing even as a rather satisfied smirk curled the corner of her mouth up, and he was suddenly reminded that she and Loki had been spending an awful lot of time together lately. "The lesbian in me is ecstatic, actually."

The sounds from the TV cut off and suddenly Darcy was bending over backwards to look at Pepper with one of the most shit eating grins he'd ever seen. She was a good student, he gave her an A+ for the practical on that lesson. "You bet your ass it is. It's because I'm just that great. Maybe we'll have to get Jane in on this, you know Nat'd be down with it. C'mon, kinky lesbian foursomes are totally a thing that should happen."

It was at that point that Pepper grabbed a plate and blatantly aimed for his head, just daring him to say something. He shut his mouth before words could be expelled and sunk down behind the edge of the couch, watching her like a cat waiting for her to turn around so he could put his foot in it. She didn't though, her eyes trained on him in a way that reminded him decidedly of their resident Russian spy.

Clearing his throat, he licked his lips and employed what "training" Loki had managed to instill in him. "I'm very happy for you, Pepper. Now please put down the plate so I don't have to worry about turning my back on you."

What had happened to his life that made him afraid to turn his back on one of his oldest friends in his own home?

"It's cool, Pep, we can just trade him for a nice view of him, Loki, Clint and Bruce goin' at it. Or, y'know, Thor, too, but I don't think Loki'd go for that." Darcy was definitely his protégé, but sometimes he really didn't need to share in her ideas and the mental images they gave him.

"Hm, weirdest boner ever."

"I am the best."

"…I hate both of you. Go back to your games, children. I'm going to go do the paperwork _you_ should be doing, _Tony_, and try not to think about how tempting that offer is." They were both grinning as Pepper picked up her folder of important Stark Industries papers and started down the hallway.

No way was he letting that comment slide, though. "If you can get the others to do it, I'll definitely take you up on that trade!"

He managed to dodge the shoe that came sailing at his head, though a lamp died in the crossfire while Darcy clutched at her stomach and laughed herself into a coughing fit on the floor.


End file.
